Mars Lumograph

The bitter cold winds from the dark north sweep across the barren plains, dry as a bone. M's fighters stand fast, their spirits raised by spirits, their hopes by weed, and their desire by the promise of victory. Their silver helmets reflect a grey sky, and their eyes reflect the emptyness that stretches to the horizon and endlessly beyond.

High in the castle, M zips up, as his aides step back. They stare in quiet awe at one so brave. Ia is the first to break the sombre silence.

Ia: You do look rather fetching in crocodile skin sire, if I may say so.

M cocks his head sideways to give Ia a look of condescension.

M: You think I wear this for looks Ia? How can you be so vain at a time such as this?

The other aides start to giggle suddenly, and without a warning, the chamber resounds with laughter, with all of Ms aides rolling on the floor, laughing themselves silly.

M: What the f**k have you been smoking, you morons!!?

M drags the skinniest aide to the window.

M: Look at them. Can you see the fire in their eyes? Can you see their families in distant lands, waiting for them to come home sane of body and mind? Can you see ...

aide's aide: Hey! lets' go already! Im starving.

a few minutes later, M flicks the light off as he heads out the door after all his aides. They join their friends waiting downstairs. Nobody says a word. They all walk with a quiet determination, their noses dripping numb in the cold till they get to the diner to gorge on cream filled chocolate donuts.